I saw a man swerve his car
into his life.
I saw a child kick a dog,
then I stopped to vomit
into a bag you pulled over my head
while some other part of me
watched from beneath
the gutter’s
utter
stench.
Brenda Warren 2013
Processing it: Wowza… that was weird. Quickly, click on the bee
before they vanish forever…that’s where you’ll find the prompt.
*First line taken from “The Limited” by Sherman Alexie.
This reminds me of a kidnapping. A disorientation of what should be right, but going so very wrong from what we want. Losing control. And yet that ‘stench’ is a very real part of life. This reminds me of the bold print of a headline on the daily news paper. POW!
LikeLike
Thanks for letting me know that it packed a punch, Jules. Disorientation definitely pulls itself in, and I think the bag over the head likely came from V for Vendetta, a movie that I have watched more times than both hands can count. It’s definitely a middle of the night kidnapping…for political reasons.
LikeLike
Brenda, this is concise with some disturbing images, but sometimes in life things are that way. Elizabeth has said it better than I ever could. I am happy to have you along on our journey, my friend.
Pamela
LikeLike
🙂 Me too, Pamela. FIVE MORE DAYS!!! Thank you for your support this month. It’s been nice sharing work.
LikeLike
This prompt seemed to open strange and unusual doors. But, isn’t that what a good prompt should do? Get us outside of our comfort zones, looking in places we might have originally dismissed, or hearing distorted echoes from seemingly nowhere? Your poem includes harsh imagery, but life is sometimes harsh and poetry should reflect that reality. I like it, for several reasons. Its brevity seems to pack a harder punch, and the twist leaves a knot in ones awareness.
Elizabeth
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2013/04/25/poem-starting-with-a-line-by-anne-sexton/
LikeLike
Your wisdom makes me understand why NaPoWriMo exists…. so I can write pieces that I don’t get, they come too quickly…whatever…and you can come in and shine some of your ever loving light on my words. Thank you for being here.
The constancy of your tree makes me damn happy.
LikeLike
Do you know that you often do the same for me? I fumble around as much as anyone else. Your tree is a wonderful place to sit and just soak it all in,
Elizabeth
LikeLike